


Ever Ever After

by Nicnac



Category: Enchanted (2007), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Background Newt/Anathema, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:02:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21560842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicnac/pseuds/Nicnac
Summary: Enchanted AU. After the battle against Gabriel, Aziraphale returns to the ballroom and finds another lost soul.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 70





	Ever Ever After

**Author's Note:**

> This past weekend I came up with the idea for the [Good Omens Enchanted AU](https://nicnacsnonsense.tumblr.com/post/189277371232/so-speaking-of-good-omens-aus-of-media-with-idina). I have no plans, and honestly no real interest, in writing the whole thing out, but this scene came to me last night and demanded to be released into the world, so here we are. 
> 
> (I think you can probably infer most of what you really need to about this AU, but one thing that might help it sit better if you chose not to follow the link and read all my ramblings about the AU is to know I’ve staggered everyone’s ages here. Newt is late twenties, Anathema is mid-thirties, Crowley is early forties, and Aziraphale is late forties.)

Less than an hour ago, this ballroom had been full of life. Dancers dressed in their finery had whirled about the room, laughing brightly and conversing merrily. Now Aziraphale’s footsteps echoed as he crunched across broken glass and over the gouges left by Gabriel’s claws after he’d turned into… Honestly, he wasn’t sure what it was Gabriel had turned into, only that there had been wings and fire and far too many eyes. Thank goodness that Anathema, in addition to seeming a delightful young woman, was surprisingly competent with a sword for someone who’d never used one before.

Aziraphale was happy for Newt, really. True love was a treasure, the most precious gift Aziraphale could ever hope for him to receive. But it had been only a few days ago that Newt was due to become Aziraphale’s son in law, as he had been in word and deed and love ever since the day Aziraphale had found the orphaned child. And now Newt was leaving him for this strange land and its strange people. It was perhaps no wonder then that instead of heading home as he ought to, Aziraphale had found himself back in this ballroom, as hollow and empty as he felt.

Except the room wasn’t entirely empty he realized. The red-haired man from before was sitting slumped in one of the chairs up against the wall. Newt’s True Love’s betrothed. Well, ex-betrothed, Aziraphale supposed. Anthony, that was the man’s name, Anthony Crowley.

Aziraphale began to make his way across the room toward Anthony. He owed him a great debt. Anthony had been the first of them to realize Anathema was Newt’s True Love. Anthony was the one who had encouraged her to kiss him, thus breaking the curse. Aziraphale could never possibly express the level of gratitude he felt for that, but saying thank you seemed a good place to start.

As he drew closer, Anthony’s expression gave him pause. A certain degree of loss made sense, but this much melancholy Aziraphale didn’t understand. Newt and Anathema were each other’s True Loves, which necessarily meant the same was not true of Anthony and Anathema. Surely just as Aziraphale’s own loss was tempered by the joy of knowing Newt had found his True Love, any sorrow Anthony felt at losing Anathema should be tempered by relief at knowing they had narrowly avoided a marriage with the wrong person.

“Why so sad?” Aziraphale asked.

Anthony looked at Aziraphale. The corners of his mouth twitched upward, but such a forlorn expression could never be called a smile. “She forgot her shoe,” he said, holding the article up.

“So she did,” Aziraphale agreed. The shoe was an interesting piece; the accents on it were a lovely blue-green color, but the main body was made of a strange almost slick looking material that was completely transparent. 

“It even looks like a glass slipper. I should have —“ Anthony cut himself off with a shake of his head. “She was always the practical one in our relationship. I was… well, I pretended I was the cynic with the wit and biting sarcasm, but if I’m being honest, I was the romantic. And now she’s been swept off her feet and run off with her actual One True Love, and I’m not even upset about that. I’m upset that I’m not upset. I’m upset that even though she never wanted it or believed in it, Anathema is the one that got the happily ever after while I’m left here all alone.” He sighed. There was a pause, then his eyes caught Aziraphale’s again. This time the expression Anthony gifted him with was a real smile, small but appreciative. “Well, not entirely alone,” he said.

Aziraphale’s heart gave a single pronounced thump.

While Newt has been showing Aziraphale around New York City earlier, he had attempted to explain to him the concept of “dating.” The idea was two people who thought they might be a match for each other would go out and do activities together. The more activities they were able to successfully partake in, the more confident they could be that their romantic relationship was and would continue to be a successful one. Aziraphale approved of spending time doing things with your beloved of course, but the idea one could go so long and not know if you were meant to be or not baffled him. That wasn’t how it worked in Andalasia. In Andalasia all it took was one look, one word, one single moment of connection between two souls, and you knew. Anthony had smiled at him, and Aziraphale had  _ known _ .

Still, knowing did not automatically impart confidence, so Aziraphale’s voice was quick, anxious, and quiet when he said. “We could go off together.”

“What?” Anthony’s jaw dropped in shock, but there was no horror in the expression, no revulsion. He was surprised, but also possibly the smallest bit pleased.

“You and I,” Aziraphale said. He forced it to come out stronger, firmer, bolder. This was True Love; he knew it was. There was no reason to fear. He held out his hand. “We could go off together.” 

Anthony looked at him a moment then laughed, ringing and delighted. He was so beautiful when he laughed. It made Aziraphale’s heart sing to see him. After a moment the laughter subsided, but the grin stayed, as did the joyful sparkling in his eyes. “Yeah okay.” He reached out and took Aziraphale’s hand. “Let’s do it.”


End file.
